Seven Wicked Nights (Turner #1.5)

Helen clasped her mother’s wrist and smiled. “I’m fine, Mama. I don’t need a tonic.”


“A bath?” pressed Millicent. “I wager the duke’s staff can have one ready in no time. I hear he even had pipes installed to bring in the water! Have you ever heard of such a thing? Let’s send for a bath and find out.”

Cleo couldn’t resist rolling her eyes. Hadn’t they just stopped at an inn barely three miles distant so Helen could wash and change her dress? Of course she must look lovely for her future husband—Cleo didn’t argue with that—but this was silly, pretending to rest when none of them could close their eyes and wanting a bath just to discover if there really were pipes for the water.

“I’m fine, Mama.” Helen pushed her mother’s hand away and dodged it when Millicent would have reached out to smooth her hair. “Really, I’m quite recovered from the trip. Cleo and I were just talking about the duke.”

Millicent paused, clearly caught between the excitement of gossiping about their host and wariness of whatever Cleo might have said. “Indeed?” she asked with a too-bright smile. “What did you decide?”

“That he’s a very handsome gentleman,” said Cleo dutifully.

“Of course he is!” Their mother beamed, relieved.

“But Helen doesn’t know him all that well, does she?” Cleo went on, unable to ignore the devil inside her. “How long was his courtship?”

Millicent glared daggers at her. “It was all very proper,” she said sternly. “He contacted your father, most properly, and made a very pretty proposal—”

“Before he’d spoken to Helen?” Cleo was genuinely shocked—she hadn’t known that—and looked to Helen for confirmation. Her sister frowned and looked down, picking at her sleeve again.

“And his secretary—no, his cousin, Mr. Blair, came every week to pay his respects and make the arrangements!” Millicent lifted her chin.

“Didn’t His Grace call on you, Helen?” Cleo asked, ignoring her mother.

Helen said nothing.

“Of course he did!” said Millicent indignantly. “Last Season! Several times! And twice this year!”

This was all news to Cleo. When Helen had said she didn’t know the Duke of Wessex well, Cleo had thought it was due to a short but typical courtship, not one conducted by proxy. “And he sent his cousin to propose?”

“He did—That is—Not everyone must run wild and elope like you did, miss!” Millicent’s temper got away from her, and Cleo could almost see smoke coming from her mother’s ears. Behind Millicent, her sister was ripping the lace from her sleeve, her head bent.

She relented. Helen had accepted Wessex’s marriage proposal, and it was her choice. She said she was happy to be marrying him. Cleo had no right to make her sister more nervous than she already was.

“No, Mama,” she said soothingly. “They mustn’t. And I am very happy for Helen.”

Millicent opened her mouth, then closed it, as if she’d been ready for more argument. “Of course you are,” she finally said, accepting the truce. “We all are. But Helen! You must rest!” Cleo watched her mother press Helen back down, fluttering around her like an excited bird. This must be a dream come to life for Millicent, marrying her most beautiful daughter to a duke, especially after the disappointment Cleo had been.

She wondered if her mother had ever had the same hopes for her, before she proved herself difficult and rebellious. She wasn’t completely unlike Helen. She was pretty enough, though not beautiful like her sister. She’d been told she was intelligent and clever, but with an appalling tendency to speak too strongly and be too opinionated. Her great failing, though, had been her willingness to marry a man in trade, thereby drawing shame and discredit upon all her family. Millicent, the daughter of a squire and wife of a baronet, had dreamt of having a titled son-in-law her whole life. For Cleo to saddle her with a merchant son-in-law was intolerable.

Of course, her mother’s reaction to her marriage had been kind and warm compared to her father’s response.

From across the room, Helen’s eyes met hers, reluctantly amused and resigned. She’d always been the obedient daughter, and today was no different. Cleo would have wagered a guinea Helen would end up taking both a nap and a bath to please their mother.